


till the right one comes along

by littlervoice



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, bit of side niall/zayn, cupid!harry, mainly fluff lbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7152977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlervoice/pseuds/littlervoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So you’re kinda like Cupid then?”<br/>“Yeah,” Harry grins. “Exactly.”<br/>“Well then, I have to say I’m disappointed.” There’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of Niall’s mouth as he sits down opposite Harry. “I was led to believe Cupid had wings.”</p>
<p>(aka harry is assigned to help niall fall in love)</p>
            </blockquote>





	till the right one comes along

**Author's Note:**

> well this was originally only gonna be a valentine's day drabble but then it got long and then uni and life got in the way and it sat in my docs half-finished for months but recently i found it again and didn't want it to just sit there unfinished forever (no matter how bad it is lol) so here it is like 4 months late you're welcome
> 
> also here i am on [tumblr](http://littlervoice.tumblr.com/)

“So what you’re trying to tell me,” Niall says, “is that you broke into my apartment, drank my expensive coffee, left dirty footprints on my coffee table,” he gives Harry a pointed glare until he carefully removes his feet off the table and onto the floor, “and now you’re sat on my sofa watching my Netflix with a fucking  _ bow and arrow _ in your hand?”

“Correct,” Harry grins.

“And despite all this, I shouldn’t call the police because–”

“–because I’m here to help you.”

“Gotta be honest, nothing about the weapon in your hand screams trustworthy and helpful,” Niall says.

“But it’s got hearts on it!” Harry points out. He lifts the bow up for Niall to see but Niall takes a cautious step back instead. “And glitter! What am I gonna do, bedazzle you to death?”

Niall narrows his eyes. “Possibly,” he says, and then after a pause, “Okay then, if you’re not here to kill me, who the fuck are you and why are you in my living room?”

Harry gets up from Niall’s sofa, making a point to leave his bow and arrow on the cushion as he does, and sticks his hand out for Niall to shake. “I’m Harry. I’m here to help you fall in love.”

“Are you high?” Niall questions after a moment of stunned silence. “Or lost? Or high  _ and _ lost?” His hand creeps into his pocket, obviously searching for his phone, which he pulls out and waves at Harry. “Because I can call someone for you if you like.”

“No I’m fine,” Harry frowns. He knows he can talk a little slow sometimes but he’d never get high on the job. “Like I said, I’m just here to help you with the small problem that is your love life.”

It’s Niall’s turn to frown now. “Piss off, my love life’s just fine,” he says, taking a step forward again and folding his arms.

“Your love life doesn’t  _ exist _ ,” Harry argues half-heartedly, flopping back down onto Niall’s sofa.

“Have you considered that’s because I want it that way?”

“Sure. But we both know that’s not true. I wouldn’t have been assigned to help you otherwise.”

“ _ Assigned _ ,” Niall scoffs. “Like I’m some kind of project. Assigned by who? To do what, exactly?”

“Assigned by the powers-that-be, to help  _ you _ ,” Harry gestures up at Niall, “find  _ the one _ .” He wiggles his fingers in what he hopes is a dramatic and enticing manner until Niall shoots him a glare Harry reckons could kill a man. Not wanting to test his theory, he abruptly stops and rests his hands back on his stomach again.

After a moment’s deliberation, and much to Harry’s relief, Niall seemingly loses whatever internal argument he’s having with himself and decides to just go with it, although he still sounds a bit dubious when he says, “So you’re kinda like Cupid then?”

“Yeah,” Harry grins. “Exactly.”

“Well then, I have to say I’m disappointed.” There’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of Niall’s mouth as he sits down opposite Harry. “I was led to believe Cupid had wings.”

“In that case, Niall, I’m afraid you’ve been direly misinformed.”

-

Harry spends the next four days on Niall’s sofa, which he graciously offers to Harry to sleep on until he’s finished doing “whatever it is he’s doing.”

“It’ll fuck your back up after a while,” he warns.

Harry just smiles. He doesn’t intend to be here for long. “I think you underestimate my matchmaking abilities, Niall.”

Niall raises his eyebrows. “And I think you overestimate my ability to fall in love,” he mumbles, before ducking out of the living room. Oh well. Harry likes a challenge.

Over the course of those four days Harry does absolutely no matchmaking whatsoever. Apart from getting his butt well-acquainted to Niall’s sofa.

By the time Harry’s fifth day with Niall arrives he’s getting bored. He’s long since run out of  _ Friends _ re-runs to watch, he’s worked his way through Niall’s impressively broad snack selection in his kitchen, and now he’s beginning to feel antsy. He needs to do something.

“I thought you were here to help me fall in love,” Niall says when he gets home from work that evening, “Not spend the entire time watching TV while eating all my food.” He grabs the bag of Doritos tucked under Harry’s arm as he passes, stuffing a handful into his mouth before continuing through to the kitchen.

He comes back a minute later, shoes and coat removed, and the bag of Doritos replaced by a glass of water.

“I don’t think you understand how this works,” Harry tells him, sitting up into a more acceptable position.

“Course I bloody don’t know how this works! I’m still not even sure if this is real!”

“Heeey,” Harry frowns. “I’m real.”

“Well, forgive me,” Niall says, sounding more than a little exasperated. “A strange man shows up at my house claiming to be Cupid. Course I’m gonna be sceptical.”

“Do I look like I’m messing you around?” Harry decides it’s probably best not to give Niall enough time to answer that and tries to bring the conversation back on track instead. “Anyway, I can’t  _ make _ you fall in love.”

“Well that’s stupid, what’s the point–”

“I just help you along the way once the connection is there,” Harry raises his voice over Niall. “I shoot the arrow and if it sticks it means you’re pretty much one hundred percent compatible. But you have to be the one to initiate contact and find that connection. I can’t do that. I can’t just shoot an arrow at whoever you want and then make you instantly in love with each other.” Harry waves a hand at the TV. “Hence why I’ve been sat here for the past four days. You’ve not even given me one hint about anyone you’re interested in.”

“Would’ve been nice of you to tell me,” Niall mutters.

“I just did.”

Niall leaves the room again for a few minutes and Harry briefly wonders if he’s managed to offend him somehow, and if he needs to go find him and apologise. But then Niall comes back into the room wearing his coat and his shoes again.

“Well, come on then.” Niall jerks his head towards the hallway before disappearing back through the door without another word.

Curiosity peaked, Harry stuffs his feet into his boots and quickly scampers after Niall, pausing only momentarily to grab a jacket off one of the hooks by the door as he passes.

-

Niall leads him to a café a couple of streets away. The bell above the door dings when they enter, and they go sit at an empty table by the window in the corner. It’s actually meant for four people, but the café’s not too busy so Harry supposes it’ll be alright.

They each grab a menu, reading them in silence for a few minutes until Niall clears his throat and says, “So it’s–”

“Wait, no,” Harry interrupts. “Let me guess.” It’s a game he likes to play with himself sometimes. See how good his instincts are. And sometimes he just likes to show off.

But he’s struggling today. He knows it must be one of the staff here for Niall to drag him all this way, which leaves a choice of two waiters and a waitress. Unless it’s one of the chefs in the kitchen but Harry doubts that. Other than that he’s a bit stumped. Niall hasn’t showed any signs, paid any extra attention to any of them individually, nor vice versa.

Harry watches Niall and the rest of the room for another minute or so. “Okay. I reckon it’s– ow, hey!” Niall kicks Harry’s shin under the table, abruptly cutting his sentence short, just before one of the waiters saunters up to their table.

“Hi, Niall,” he greets. He pulls his pad and pen out of his apron pocket. Harry cranes his head to read his name tag. Liam. “You on a date?” He nods his head at Harry, a smirk playing at his lips.

“No,” Niall says at the exact same time as Harry answers, “Yes.”

He reaches across the table to rest his palm on top of Niall’s hand, gripping his fingers just hard enough so that Niall can’t pull his hand free, and flashes Liam a grin. “First date,” Harry says. “He’s still a bit embarrassed that it took so long for him to work up the courage to ask me.”

“No, that’s–”

“Completely true,” Harry nods.

“Aww, congrats, man,” Liam says. His eyes crinkle up as his face breaks out into a sincere smile. “Hey, what you drinking? It’s on the house. Celebrations in order and all that.”

Niall seems unable to answer, staring silently at his hand under Harry’s on the table in front of him. So Harry orders them two beers and sends Liam off with a smile and a  _ thanks _ .

As soon as Liam’s out of earshot Niall extracts his hand from Harry’s. He tucks it safely into his armpit when he crosses his arms and leans back in his seat. “The fuck was that?”

“Flirting,” Harry answers, simple as that. “Easiest way to tell if someone likes you. Make them jealous.”

_ “This _ is how you go about finding someone a partner? What a joke,” Niall sneers. He genuinely looks pissed. Harry doesn’t like it.

“Well it told me what I needed to know,” he murmurs, trying hard to keep from sounding wounded, defensive.

Niall looks unconvinced, folding his napkin in half again and again until it won’t go any smaller. “And?”

“And he’s completely not into you,” Harry informs him, tagging on a quick  _ sorry  _ to soften the blow.

“You can’t tell that from just two second’s interaction.”

“Sure you can. Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone happier to find out someone else is in a relationship. I mean, he’s giving you free drinks to celebrate your newfound relationship for god’s sake. If that doesn’t scream one hundred percent not interested I don’t know what does.”

Niall goes back to perusing the menu again. He flips it over in his hands a few times before looking back up at Harry. “Maybe he was just putting on a brave face?”

“Doubt that.”

“You should still shoot him with one of your arrows or whatever it is you do,” Niall says.

“It’s not worth it. He’s not into you, there’s no connection. It’d be pointless,” Harry says with a shrug. He doesn’t mention that Niall doesn’t really seem to be that into Liam either.

“But you can’t be sure,” Niall argues. “What if we’re destined to be together but we don’t find out because you won’t do your job? Please, Harry.”

There’s only so long he can hold out against Niall’s pleading eyes. “Fine.” He takes his bow out from under his jacket and waits until Liam’s back is turned after he’s dropped off their drinks.

He shoots. It doesn’t stick. Just as expected.

Niall doesn’t say anything. Harry tucks his bow back away. “I’m sorry,” he offers.

“It’s fine,” Niall says, but he doesn’t sound it. His voice is overly cheery, like when people try to overcompensate for just how fine they aren’t. “Said yourself it wouldn’t work.”

“I know, but still.”

They both take a sip of their drinks, Niall trying hard to avoid both Liam’s and Harry’s gazes when Liam passes. “Now what?”

“Now we go home and try again with someone else,” Harry says. “After we’ve finished our free drinks, of course.” He nudges Niall’s foot under the table. “Unless you wanna see what else we can get for free? Because I reckon if I proposed we could get the whole meal–”

Niall nudges him back under the table, but a bit harder. More of a kick, really. “Shut up, you’re not proposing,” he laughs.

“Why not?!”

“It’s only our first date,” Niall says, and then leans forward and lowers his voice, serious all of a sudden. “People would think I’m awful desperate.”

“Or just awful lucky,” Harry counters, “getting to marry someone as great as me.” He preens a little, flashes Niall, who’s doing a damn good job of looking unimpressed, a dazzling grin.

“Are you always this big-headed?”

“Only when I’m trying to impress a pretty guy,” Harry says without thinking, immediately taking a long pull of his beer in an attempt to hide his blush once he realises what he’s just said.

Niall, thankfully, lets Harry’s mishap slide. Although Harry can’t help but notice the slight blush that adorns his cheeks at the compliment too.

It is true though. Niall  _ is _ very pretty. And Harry’s only human. Five days with only Niall for company, of course he’s going to notice some things. Like the way Niall’s cheeks go all pink with excitement when they’re watching football and the right team is winning. Or the way he somehow always manages to have the exact same crease on his face from his pillow each morning when he comes down to make breakfast before work.

But it’s all one hundred percent objective. Completely, absolutely, totally objective – Harry’s a professional, after all.

“Or you could propose to me,” Harry suggests, filling the silence.

“Nah, can’t be doing that,” Niall says. “I’ve got bad knees.”

-

Over the course of the next two weeks they try again with Lydia from the flat upstairs. It goes disastrously wrong, ending up in Harry spilling red wine over her brand new (expensive) white dress, and Niall grumbling all the way home about how he’s going to have to avoid her for the rest of the time they both share the building.

They try again with Dylan from the five-a-side football team Niall used to play for before he messed up his knee. They go to a football match with him but he ends up being so boring that Niall chooses to spend most of the game trying to explain the offside rule to Harry.

(He still doesn’t fully understand it.)

And they try again with some girl Niall matched with on tinder. Harry sits at his own table across the restaurant and watches it play out, the two of them clearly hitting it off, it goes great. Until the topic of her ex comes up – and stays at the forefront of her conversations for the rest of the evening.

None of the arrows stick.

“It has to happen eventually, right?” Niall asks.

“I bloody hope so,” Harry says. “Because you were right. This sofa is playing havoc with my back.”

Niall flashes him an apologetic grimace. “Sorry about that.”

“Not like you didn’t warn me,” Harry shrugs. “I’ll probably just end up getting a hotel if I’m here much longer. Or a sleeping bag. S'pose even the floor would be comfier than that thing.”

Niall clears his throat, hesitant about something suddenly. “Or you could, um. You could share with me?” His cheeks turn pink at his own suggestion. “I mean, it’s a double and I feel awful making you pay for a hotel room. And it’s not like there’s anyone else using it…”

Harry’s torn in two at the offer. It’s tempting. Being able to sleep on a proper mattress after so long without having to curl up awkwardly because his legs are too long to fit. His aching back longs for it.

Another part of him longs for it because it means getting to wake up next to Niall every morning. Something he’s been trying hard not to think about since he got here, how domestic it would be. He’d get to see first-hand just how Niall gets that damn identical pillow crease on his face every single morning.

But it also has the potential to go disastrously wrong.

“Forget it,” Niall says. “That was weird. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

“No, it’s– that sounds. Good,” Harry rushes out. “For my back, I mean.”

“Of course. Feel free to just,” Niall waves his hand at the bedroom door, “whenever.”

-

Harry finds out that Niall sleeps in his boxers that night, when he unceremoniously starts undressing right in front of Harry who’s already lying in bed.

Niall seems completely unfazed by the whole situation, unlike Harry who can feel his cheeks hotting up and doesn’t know where to look. He settles on his phone, setting an alarm for the morning.

Niall slips under the cover seamlessly, switches off the lamp and rolls onto his side. He tosses a  _ night _ over his shoulder to Harry and then it’s silence.

Harry awkwardly shuffles onto his side, too. He’s sure he’s jostling the mattress a ridiculous amount and his foot accidentally brushes against Niall’s calf at least twice. This bed looks bigger than it is.

Niall doesn’t complain though, he’s already asleep judging by his deep, even breathing that’s filling the room. It’s quite a soothing soundtrack, and Harry finds himself slipping under not long after.

-

They give it a rest for a week or so after that. Niall’s clearly disheartened by his repetitive failures so Harry doesn’t want to push it.

Instead it’s just the two of them, developing into some kind of a routine that feels rather domestic. Going to sleep together on a night, waking up at the same time the next morning, Harry lazing in bed while Niall has a shower. Niall making enough breakfast for two now, which they eat together at the tiny table Niall bought at the second-hand shop one weekend and managed to cramp into the kitchen.

“What about work?” Harry finally asks one morning.

Niall pauses, his toast halfway to his mouth. “What about it?”

“You spend five days a week there, is there not anyone there that you have your eye on?”

“Never really considered it,” Niall says. He takes the bite of his toast. “Don’t they say you’re not supposed to mix business with pleasure?”

“Sure,” Harry says. “But where’s the fun in that?”

-

It takes Harry four days to convince Niall to let him go to work with him.

“Please?”

“No.”

“You know I’m going to ask you every day until you agree.”

“And you know I’m only going to say no every day,” Niall retorts. He sets a mug of steaming coffee in front of each of them. “Why’d you even want to go anyway? I know for a fact you’ll get bored about ten minutes after we get there and end up harassing everyone in the office, including my boss, and I’ll probably end up spending the rest of the day begging not the be fired.”

“I won’t!” Harry protests. “I just want to scope out the hot guys.”

Niall almost spits out his mouthful of coffee. “Christ, if I agree to let you come will you promise never to say those words ever again in my presence?”

Harry’s entire face lights up. “Sure.”

“Then fine,” Niall says. “But you better go get dressed, I’m not having you show me up in front of everyone.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Harry sing-songs. He puts his coffee to one side and goes to change out of his pyjamas. Niall’s voice stops him just as he gets to the hallway.

“And I work with girls too, you know!”

Harry pops his head back round the door and says solemnly, “We don’t objectify women, Niall,” before flashing a quick wink and heading off to raid Niall’s wardrobe.

-

They’re almost late because they see a cat on the way to the tube station and Harry refuses to move until Niall lets him go up and pet it.

“It reminds me of the cat we used to have when I was little,” he tells Niall as it winds itself around his legs and leaves a dusting of ginger fur over the black trousers he’d settled on wearing.

“Cute,” Niall says, “but can we maybe reminisce while we’re on the tube? I’m not getting fired ‘cause of a bloody cat.”

“Now that would be a catastrophe,” Harry says, narrowly avoiding the elbow aimed towards his ribs.

When they arrive at the office they’re greeted with a call of, “Cutting it close, Horan!” from the doorway of the break room, and Niall rolls his eyes fondly.

“Yeah, alright, Louis. Need I remind you how many times I’ve covered for your late, hungover arse since you started working here?”

“Yeah, yeah, too many times to count. And you know I love you for it, Nialler.” Louis jerks his head at Harry. “Who’s this?”

Niall introduces Harry, spouting off some bullshit about him being new in town and hoping to work in the industry, hence coming here to get a bit of insight into it all. Louis seems to buy it, raising his eyebrows and pointing out how convenient it is that their boss is out of office today.

“Wait,” Harry says, turning to Niall. “I don’t want you to– I can go. If it’s going to get you in trouble.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Louis says. “Besides, it’d be stupid of you to leave now – drinks are on Niall after work.”

“Drinks are always on me,” Niall grumbles.

“Well that’s nice of you to offer,” Louis grins. He checks the time on his phone. “Right, well, better get cracking. But don’t wear yourselves out too much, lads. 5pm, coats on, ready. Inebriation waits for no man.”

Harry looks at Niall who just shrugs as if this is a normal occurrence and goes over to his desk.

-

Niall’s right. After about an hour of being there Harry starts getting bored, and it’s taking him all of his restraint to stop himself from going up and distracting Niall’s coworkers like he said Harry would. Although the idea is much less appealing now that he’s learnt that everyone Niall works with, except for Louis, is either married or at least twenty years older than him.

Harry decides to pass the time by tidying Niall’s desk. Sorting his paper clips into neat little piles by size, refilling his stapler, gathering all of his loose papers into one neat pile (which he promptly tried to return to their original positions once he saw the murderous look on Niall’s face). When he checks his watch Harry realises that’s only wasted about an hour, so he heads over to the coffee machine in the break room to bring Niall an apology latte, which somehow ends up in him doing a coffee run for the whole office.

Niall takes an early lunch - although whether that’s for his benefit or Harry’s he doesn’t say - and the two of them grab a salad each from the Tesco around the corner and take them over to one of the nearby parks to eat.

“I told you so,” Niall says, shooing the pigeons away from underneath one of the benches so they can sit down.

“Told me what?”

“That it’d be boring.” Niall pops the lid off his salad and takes a bite. “You can go home if you want, I don’t mind.”

“But we’re going for drinks with Louis,” Harry says.

“He won’t care if we don’t show up, he’ll just find someone else to annoy. Believe me, I know.”

Harry shifts in his seat. “I was thinking more along the lines of, um. Getting you a date.”

“Wait, with Louis?” Niall sounds unconvinced.

“Sure,” Harry shrugs, “I mean, you already seem to be good friends with him. And, honestly, judging from the people in that office, he’s your best bet.” Niall remains silent, so Harry bumps his elbow and grins. “Unless you want to end up with Al from accounting? He’s only, what, 3 years from retirement? Just think, you could retire to Spain, live off his pension and be his–”

Niall cuts him off with a jab in the ribs. “Okay, okay, I get it,” he laughs. “Just please never talk about me and Al in the same sentence like that ever again, god.”

They eat in silence for a few minutes but Harry doesn’t want to let the subject drop. “So, Louis?” He prompts.

“I don’t know…Louis, he’s–”

“The first person you’d be going on a date with in almost two weeks,” Harry points out. “C’mon, Niall, help me do my job here. Besides, the sooner we find you someone, the sooner I leave.”

“Well, in that case,” Niall agrees, Harry feigning offence.

They head back to the office after that, making a quick detour to Waterstones so Harry can buy a book to keep him occupied for the afternoon, which it does, passing the rest of the day in no time at all from his comfy little reading nook he made himself in the break room.

True to his word, Louis is ready and waiting by the time 5pm rolls around. He takes them to a pub called the Spoon and Satchel, which isn’t nearly as pretentious as it sounds once they get inside, and he even buys the first round despite his earlier words.

When Niall goes to the bar a while later to get the second round Harry leans forward in his seat to be closer to Louis. Time to get his plan into action.

“So what do you think about Niall?”

Louis raises his eyebrows, obviously not expecting it. “Niall? He’s a good lad. Got my back.”

“Yeah,” Harry hums. “But I was thinking more like, you know…” He gives Louis a meaningful look, whose eyes light up in realisation.

“Like I said, he’s a really good guy.”

“So, uh. You think a date wouldn’t be out of the question?”

“I don’t think so,” Louis says, smiling all of a sudden. “Yeah, in fact that’s a fantastic idea. We could go on a double date, you and Niall, and I’ve had my eye on Danielle from the office upstairs. It’ll be great.”

“Oh, I–”

“You know, I’ve been saying Niall needs to let off some steam recently.” Louis unlocks his phone and opens his calendar app. “Got a particular day in mind? I can’t do next weekend.”

Harry’s saved from answering by Niall returning to their table. He carefully deposits the three pints from his grasp. “What’d I miss?”

“We’re going on a date,” Louis beams.

“Wait, what?” Niall’s eyes dart between Harry and Louis, a hint of betrayal flashing across his face.

“Calm down, calm down,” Louis laughs. “A double date, I mean. You and Harry, and me and Danielle from HR.”

“Oh,” Niall says, dumbly. He looks at Harry who just shrugs back, only half apologetically.

“God, you should’ve seen your face, Niall,” Louis cackles, taking a sip of his beer.

“Shut up, whatever,” Niall grumbles, sitting down again and hiding his blush behind his own drink. He’s clearly uncomfortable, so Harry quickly decides it’s time to change the subject, bringing up something about football after he’d seen all the memorabilia at Louis’ desk earlier.

Louis finally leaves the two of them alone when he takes a trip to the toilet. As he’s walking away Harry turns to Niall. “Want me to–?” He mimes shooting one of his arrows at Louis’ back.

“No point,” Niall sighs. “Said it yourself, it’s a waste of time if he’s not interested, and clearly he isn’t. And I don’t think I am either, to be honest.”

“Then why did you let me drag you all the way here? We could’ve just gone home and watched crap telly and ordered take-out.”

“Dunno,” Niall says with a shrug, “you seemed pretty excited. Didn’t wanna ruin your fun.”

“You’re not ruining my fun,” Harry says. “I would’ve been happy to just go home, you know that.”

Niall’s remains silent.

“Well,” Harry says eventually. “At least we have a double date to look forward to?” Although he’s not too sure how likely it is that they’ll follow through with their plan.  

-

“Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Harry lifts the covers off Niall’s face and Niall groans at the light, immediately covering his eyes with his elbow instead. Harry doesn’t know why they’ve decided to spend the morning having a pity-party but he’ll blame the hangovers they’re both sporting. After Louis had left last night he and Niall stayed at the bar until closing. Whether or not that was a good idea, Harry’s still deciding.

“What if no one ever wants to date me?” Niall continues. He rolls over onto his side. “What if I’m doomed to live alone for the rest of my life? What if I never get married? My mum’ll kill me.”

“I’d marry you,” Harry says, turning his head on the pillow so that his face is inches away from Niall’s.

“Gross, your breath smells like something died in your mouth overnight.” Niall wrinkles his nose but doesn’t move away, his eyes searching Harry’s face like he’s trying to decide if he’s being serious. “And that’s hardly reassuring, by the way.”

Harry makes a point of turning his face away to exhale and then turns back to say, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll marry anything that breathes.”

“Hey,” Harry protests. “Just because I like people doesn’t mean I want to marry them.”

Niall scoffs. “Mate, it took me ten minutes to drag you out of that taxi last night because you wouldn’t stop professing your love to the driver.”

“I was drunk and he had a nice hat, okay?”

“Funny hats and alcohol: the way to win Harry Styles’ heart. If only everyone was as easy to woo as that.”

“Are you trying to say I’m easy?”

“Your words, not mine,” Niall grins.

“Rude.” Harry grabs the pillow from beneath his head and smashes it in Niall’s face. “Just for that you’re making me breakfast while I go shower.”

Niall sighs and rolls off the bed dramatically, as if making Harry breakfast isn’t what he’s been doing every morning anyway.

“And like proper breakfast. Not just shitty cereal. My head is killing and I’m pretty sure the only thing that can make it better is bacon.”

“Coming right up,” Niall says, and makes to leave the bedroom.

Harry stares at Niall’s retreating back just long enough to decide he’d like to press a kiss to each of the freckles that are scattered across the bare skin.

“Hey, Niall,” he calls out.

Niall turns to look at Harry from the doorway and Harry lets the silence stretch out long enough for Niall to tilt his head in question.

“We’ll find you someone.”

-

They meet Zayn by chance.

Quite literally bump into him one night as he spills out of the doorway of one of the newer bars downtown, cigarette already clasped between his lips and the lighter halfway up to his mouth. He knocks straight into Niall, and the momentum forces Niall to step back into Harry, causing him to accidentally bite his lip. Niall doesn’t seem to notice though. His eyes are glued on Zayn the minute he steps out the door.

“Shit, sorry,” Zayn winces, “wasn’t expecting,” he waves his hand between Niall and Harry and then continues lighting his cigarette. He takes a long drag before fumbling around in his back pocket for the pack. “Fuck, where are my manners?” He outstretches the half-empty packet and shakes it a little. “Be my guest.”

“Uh, no. Thank you, though,” Harry says, with the metallic taste of blood still in his mouth. He gives a polite shake of his head, ready to be on his way, but Niall has other plans. He silently takes a cigarette from the pack, expertly bringing it to his lips and letting Zayn crowd in close to light it but Harry doesn’t miss the way Niall’s eyes water ever so slightly after he’s inhaled, like he’s trying desperately hard to hold in a cough.

Harry doesn’t blame him really. Zayn could offer him almost anything and he’d take it. He has this aura about him that you just want to impress, and a face so beautiful you’d do questionable things just to see it light up the way it did when Niall accepted a smoke. But Harry stops just short of an increased risk of cancer.

Niall and Zayn smoke in silence, Zayn poking around on the phone he produces out of the pocket of his leather jacket and pretty much just ignoring the two of them. When he stubs out what’s left of his cigarette Harry thinks (and a little bit hopes) that’ll be their cue to leave. But instead he invites them inside. And Niall accepts, arching a keen eyebrow at Harry before swiftly following Zayn through the door.

They order some drinks and sit at one of the booths in the corner, Niall and Harry on one side, Zayn on the other, all leaning in close to be heard over the heavy bass of the music that’s pumping through the speakers mixed with the chatter from the other patrons.

Harry slowly looks around the room. It wasn’t where he was expecting to end up tonight. He’d planned on somewhere quieter, somewhere where they actually know what the light switch is for, but still. At least this place has good beer on tap.

“You mentioned you’re a musician, right?” Harry figures he should probably take part in the conversation sooner rather than later. Before Zayn thinks he’s just some mute weirdo who follows Niall around everywhere he goes.

“I did.”

“So do you do that full time?” Niall asks.

Zayn snorts. It’s the least dignified thing Harry’s seen him do all night. “Course not. I actually want to eat sometimes, you know.” He laughs some and then shakes his head. “Nah, I’m a waiter during the day. Spend most of the time I’m supposed to be sleeping working on my songs.”

“They any good?” Niall’s eyes widen when his brain catches up to his words. He slaps a hand over his mouth just for good measure. “Sorry– that was–”

Zayn simply smirks. “Guess you’ll have to come see me play, find out for yourself.”

He leaves not long after that, saying he’s supposed to be up for work in a few hours, but not before inviting Niall and Harry to watch him perform at open mic next week. Niall tells him they’ll be there for sure, and he and Zayn hold eye contact for what feels like a stupidly long time until Harry coughs awkwardly to remind them that he’s still here, thanks.

“Have fun at work,” Harry says, the words coming out harsher than he’d intended.

-

Zayn’s songs are incredible, according to Niall.

Harry’s not so bothered. Some of the lyrics are a bit too pretentious for his tastes, he doesn’t really get them, but clearly Niall does, along with the small but sizeable crowd Zayn has managed to reel in for his set. He’s not bad, by all means, and his voice is fantastic. But Harry reckons he’ll be sticking to his Eagles and his Fleetwood Mac for the foreseeable future.

Zayn performs for about forty minutes, finished by 10:30, which is good because Niall has work in the morning so he can’t be out until the early hours.

“That was so good,” Niall gushes once the music’s over. His face is flushed from being in the middle of such a tight group of people for so long.

“Ready to go?” Harry asks, eyeing up the exit already.

“Sure,” Niall says. “Let me just say bye to Zayn real quick. You can wait outside if you like, I’ll only be a minute, promise.”

After ten minutes propped against the wall outside breathing in other people’s cigarette smoke, the cold starts to seep in through Harry’s clothes. He has to shove his hands into his pockets to keep the feeling in his fingers.

When people stop trickling out of the doors he decides it’s probably best to head back in, find out where Niall’s got to. Part of him doesn’t want to though, worried about what he’s going to find when he gets back in there. It doesn’t take ten minutes just to say goodbye.

Still, he goes anyway. If just to get a bit of warmth back into him.

He gets carded, of course, even though the bouncers had just seen him leave not fifteen minutes ago, and as he’s putting his wallet away he bumps straight into Niall who’s heading towards the exit with a shy smile playing at his lips.

The light in the bar is dim but it’s enough for Harry to see how flushed Niall’s cheeks are, the way his hair looks like it’s had a hand run through it. His kiss-swollen lips.

In the back of the taxi Niall breaks the silence. “Good night,” he says. It’s an obvious hint, Harry can hear the giddiness in Niall’s voice, he wants to talk about it more, but Harry doesn’t take the bait. Just hums noncommittally and continues to watch the streetlights pass by one by one out the car window. 

-

“Okay, how do I look?”

Harry closes the book he was reading and shoves it to one side. He takes a second to look Niall up and down, eyes trailing up the skinny jeans Niall’s wearing that are ripped dangerously high and lingering on the sliver of collarbone peeking out from the neck of his white henley. Niall’s left all of its buttons undone, giving Harry just a flash of chest hair. Instinctively, Harry swallows.

“Good,” he answers.

“Good as in: good,” Niall makes a face, “or good as in: I appreciate the outfit but I think those clothes would look better on the bedroom floor?”

“Um.” Harry feels hot all of a sudden, his mind invaded by thoughts of what it would be like if he were the one to undress Niall, to tangle up in the sheets with him and feel the weight of Niall’s body pressed against his own. He reaches for his book again, desperate to keep from meeting Niall’s eyes. “The second one,” he mumbles.

“Good,” Niall nods. Satisfied. He collects his phone and wallet from the coffee table and tucks them in the right pockets.

“Wait, I didn’t realise we were going out.”

“Oh, right, yeah. I’m going out for drinks with Zayn,” Niall tells him.

Harry stands up. “Cool, just give me two secs I’ll–”

“Harry, no, we– I’m going on my own.” Niall winces apologetically. “We were talking… Zayn said it was a bit weird, you always going everywhere with me. We just. Want some alone time, I guess.”

Harry nods, pretends the twist in his stomach isn’t there, acts like there’s not a huge lump in his throat all of a sudden. “Right, of course. Silly me. Yeah. Of course you need some time alone together.” He gives Niall a watery smile, trying not to look too affected as he sits back down again. “You go have fun, I’ll just…be here,” he finishes lamely.

“Cheers,” Niall says, and then leaves the room in a waft of aftershave – the expensive stuff Harry had spied on his dresser one night only to be told it’s for  _ special occasions. _

And special occasion it must be, because Harry gets relegated to the sofa that night.

-

Niall sleeps in the following morning. Makes sense really, considering they’d gotten into the habit of using Harry’s phone for their alarm. And if Harry isn’t there…

He bursts into the living room, that same crease on his cheek from his pillow, attempting to button up his shirt and shove his feet into his shoes at the same time. “Fuck, I am so late. My boss’ll kill me,” he groans.

Harry manages to save him from toppling onto the armchair just in time. “Well if he’s going to kill you, let’s at least make you look presentable when he does.” He finishes buttoning up Niall’s shirt for him, correcting the buttons he’d managed to get wrong, and resolutely ignoring the purple mark at the base of Niall’s neck. He smooths down the collar with deft fingers. “There.”

“Thanks,” Niall murmurs. His eyes dip down to Harry’s mouth for a split-second, like he’s just realised how close the two of them are. Harry can smell the toothpaste on Niall’s breath and something weird inside him wants to taste it too.

Harry’s the first to take a step back. “Sure.” He grabs a banana from the fruit bowl and hands it to Niall, who tucks it into his jacket. “Here, breakfast.”

“Life saver,” Niall says, giving him a brief smile. “I better be– oh, fuck! Zayn’s still here.”

Harry hates the way his stomach lurches at the name. “Oh.”

“Can you see him out when he wakes up?” Niall asks. He backs towards the front door. “Tell him I’m sorry, and that I was running late for work, yeah?”

“Uh, sure, I–”

“Don’t forget to offer him breakfast!” Niall yells, and then the door slams behind him. Perfect. 

It’s about a half hour before Zayn surfaces. He silently pads into the kitchen, making Harry jump when he wishes him good morning.

“Morning,” Harry returns. He’s pretty sure the t-shirt Zayn’s wearing is one he saw on Niall last week. “Niall had to rush off to work. Said he’s sorry.”

“I guessed,” Zayn says with a half-smile. He picks up the coffee pot on the side. “Mind if I–?”

“Go ahead,” Harry offers. “Niall said to ask if you wanted any breakfast, although I’m not sure what we have in. Probably just cereal.” He’s lying. He knows there’s bacon somewhere in the fridge, and he’s pretty sure he has enough ingredients to whip up some top-notch pancakes, but the last thing he wants to do is give Zayn an excuse to stay longer.

“Coffee’s fine,” Zayn says. He blows on his cup to try and cool it down.

It’s awkward, the two of them stood at opposite sides of the tiny kitchen staring each other down. Their only common ground is a twenty minute tube journey away at work.

“Right, well. Stay for however long you want, I guess,” Harry shrugs, but silently hopes Zayn has somewhere to be. “I’ll just be in–”

“Actually,” Zayn interrupts. “I best be off too. Shift starts in half an hour.” Harry trails him as he makes his way down the hall to the front door, watches as Zayn ties his boots and shrugs on his worn leather jacket. “Can you– would you tell Niall thanks?”

Harry frowns. “Thanks?”

“For last night.”

“For last–? What the fuck?” Harry splutters. “What are you– can’t you tell him yourself?”

Zayn sighs, zips and unzips one of his pockets. “I never wanted anything serious.”

“Is that all this was to you? A quick fuck and then out the door as fast as you can?” Anger simmers in the pit of Harry’s stomach. “You can’t even find the decency to tell Niall yourself? You selfish bastard.”

“I just think it’s easier this way.”

“Sure, for you, maybe. But what about Niall? Do you not care what he’s gonna think? How  _ he’s _ gonna feel?”

Zayn remains silent, eyes wandering around the room.

“Do you even know how excited he was for your date last night?” Harry presses on.

“It wasn’t a date,” Zayn mumbles. “Not really.”

“Did Niall know that? Or did you just string him along under false pretenses until he put out and you got what you were after?”

Zayn fumbles with the door, taking it off the latch and pulling it open.

“Guess that answers that, then,” Harry seethes.

In the hallway Zayn turns around one final time, he looks a little guilty, at least. “Just tell him I said sorry, please.”

-

“Why am I so bad at relationships?”

“You’re not bad at anything,” Harry sighs, “you just haven’t found–”

“–the right person yet, yes I know. So you keep saying. But like. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder. What if I don’t have a right person?”

“No.” Harry sits up, shrugging Niall out from where he’s tucked under his arm. “We’re not having this stupid, miserable conversation again. You’ll just end up feeling shit about yourself. We should do something else. Watch a film, play a game, go for a walk. Anything.”

“You’re right,” Niall agrees. He straightens the glasses that have fallen crooked on his face. “I need to go talk to him.”

“Niall, no–” Harry protests weakly. That’s far from what he was suggesting. But it’s too late, Niall’s already halfway to the door. Harry follows him with a sigh. Tonight is going to be a long night.

-

Harry’s more than slightly relieved to find Zayn isn’t at the bar when they get there, and he’s more than eager to turn around and go straight back home again. But Niall has other plans, clearly happy to wait, and drags Harry over to one of the barstools and orders them both a drink.

“He’ll come eventually,” Niall says.

And he does. Ducking through the door in his usual leather jacket-black jean combo, there’s a girl on his arm with a coy smile and the longest pair of legs Harry’s ever seen.

Zayn doesn’t notice them – or if he does he pretends they aren’t there – and just makes his way over to one of the empty tables where he and the girl press in close together, his hand curled possessively around her thigh.

Niall stiffens in his seat. Harry places a consoling hand on his knee. “I’m sorry,” he says, because that’s all he can offer.

“Whatever, it’s fine,” Niall says. He downs the remainder of his drink and signals to the bartender to bring them another round. “Let’s get smashed.”

They do indeed get smashed, in spectacular fashion. Niall orders them round after round, occasionally throws a couple of shots in there for the two of them, and Harry doesn’t have the heart to turn him down. So he matches Niall drink for drink until last orders and someone helpfully informs him there’s a taxi waiting for them at the curb outside.

Harry doesn’t remember calling for one. He can barely remember his own name right now. Oh well.

Being the slightly less drunk of the two, Harry assumes the responsibility of getting Niall safely into the taxi and reeling off the address to the driver. They make it round the first corner until Niall scoots over into Harry’s personal space.

He nuzzles into Harry’s neck, mouthing at the skin there. “Harry,” he murmurs. The way Niall’s breath tickles over Harry’s throat makes him shiver. “Kiss me.” He presses a line of single kisses up Harry’s jawline. “Harry, please, c’mon.”

“Wait.” Harry flattens his palm on Niall’s chest to push him away. He’s drunk, but he’s not drunk enough not to recognise this probably isn’t a good idea. “Niall, wait.”

Niall goes easily, putting a couple of inches back between them and allowing Harry to get a proper look at him in the dim light of the taxi. His cheeks are flushed, his breathing is heavy, and his glasses are wonky, but behind them his eyes are still wide and eager.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry whispers, and then before he can think better of it places his hand on the back of Niall’s head to pull him in for a proper kiss, Niall’s mouth opening up easily against his own to let his tongue slide in.

Somewhere along the way Niall ends up straddling Harry’s lap, and the only thing that alerts them to the fact they’ve arrived at Niall’s flat is the awkward cough from the driver’s seat. Harry lets him keep all the change from the twenty he pays with as they quickly bundle themselves out of the taxi and up to Niall’s flat.

The cold outdoor air sobers Harry up slightly, enough to send alarm bells ringing in his head. “I think. Should we–”

“Mmhm,” Niall cuts Harry off with a kiss, slowly shuffling the two of them towards his bedroom, mouths still attached.

They hit the bed and Niall’s hands immediately go for Harry’s zipper, palming the bulge there and prompting a hiss from Harry, but Harry bats his hands away before he has chance to go any further.

“I don’t– Niall. I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Niall gives in straight away, rolling onto his back beside Harry and putting a bit of space between them. For a moment their heavy breathing is the only sound between them.

“You don’t want to,” Niall finally says. He tries for a statement but it comes out more as a question.

“No, I do,” Harry says, fumbling to find Niall’s hand on the mattress between them. “I really do. Just maybe when you have more of a chance of remembering it in the morning.”

“I’m not that drunk.” There’s no heat behind Niall’s protest, and half his words almost get lost in a yawn. “But okay.”

Harry smiles at him. “Okay.”

-

Niall’s already awake when Harry wakes up the next morning. He’s scrolling through his phone but when he notices Harry’s awake he puts it on his bedside table and smiles softly at him. Harry has no choice but to return it.

“Morning,” Niall murmurs.

“So I think I found you a partner,” Harry says, shifting so he’s sitting up against the headboard.

“Yeah?” Niall’s smile spreads into an all-out grin. “Gonna shoot him with one of your arrows?”

“No need,” Harry says. He shakes his head solemnly. “I have it on good authority he’s very much into you.”

“Well in that case I’d like him to  _ very much _ prove it,” Niall says as he moves to straddle Harry’s lap.

Harry rests his hands on Harry’s hips and squeezes. He knows they’ll have have to talk about this at some point. But right now all he’s able to do is pull Niall in for a kiss like he asked.

**Author's Note:**

> one day i'll actually be able to write a decent ending for one of my stories


End file.
